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Trip to Scotland Page III
Third Times A Charm Before now we hear lots of echoing wolf howls from above. Some how the beasts got inside, as combat ensued we raced back up to help Doc and Garvin. When we got to the stairs, we heard a different noise, it sounded like a man screaming, get deeper than turn into something a lot more primitive. When I saw the corner of the stair way, I braced myself, “Please let him turn” I see I enter the fray, a huge white beast with partially ripped clothes much like the one Archie was wearing “Bad doggy” I say, run up to him, and start landing a few good hits, which makes him whimper like a dog. I have to duck and dive as other wolf men who are near me, sometimes go for me, other times go for the big white one. BANG a shot is fired, wounding the white beast in the shoulder, the gleam of the Reverend's smoking pistol walk out from the darkness of the stairwell, “Abomination!” he screams, his white collar gleaming. The beast throws a wolf man to the side and charges for the reverend, who moves slowly towards the center of the room cocks his gun and fires again. This time scoring a deadly blow in the guts of the beast, as I can see a hole explodes on the other side of the creature, but doesn't stop it. I think to myself, “well you wanted it's attention,” as the Reverend reload his gun facing down, flips the chamber back into the gun raises his arms for its head at point blank range, fires, over its shoulder, the beast retaliates at the loud noise and it's jaws engulfs his left arm. As the beast shakes its head, like a shark did when the seals were taking a dip, all we can hear above the howling and blade and punches is the reverend's roar in pain, a huge blood fountains from his arm, the crisp whiteness of the fur of Archie is stained brown by the clergy's drying blood. I come in too late to help, but I get a further two kidney hits on the beast. Its arm flings me back, I get thrown into a few pews and the wind is knocked out of me. Opening his mouth, the reverend slumps to the floor, cradling his left over arm, Morag still in her human form, stares up at her friend, maybe her inner conflict that her friend was a monster, stopped her concentration, I feared she would be his next meal. From what I could see of the beast's face, his eyes drooped, which was hard to focus on when the mouth was stained with crimson, but it still moved “Help me Morag... help me” a moment later, he had jumped up out of one of the broken windows and out of my view. There was however, some wolf men left, dragging my battered body up, whilst scraping some rocks from the floor, I grasped a broken bit of rock in my hands. Holding it tightly, it did the job, I laid a few good punches into the rib cage of the nearest beast, holding its arm so it was disabled. My last punch, a right hook with the brick in my hands, took several teeth with it, the beast's jaw, swung like a broken gate. Cutting Off Loose Ends Dropping my brick, I can see Garv holding a wolf man then finishing his throat off, Bobby bashes another with a shield, then uses it to dent its face with a squelch. The less we had to finish off, the more cries we could hear from the Reverend. Holding his arm, slumped against a upturned pew, in between cries of pain, he was muttering stuff under his haunting breathing, which echoed in the room. “How bad Doc” I ask, “I... I don't know Mr Jensen. There isn't a lot left of it. He could suffer many ailments if it remained, not to mention the supernatural if Mrs Morag can deduce” I look at Bobby, nod towards Morag, the gent gets the hint, and takes Morag off out of the way. Garvin gets out a knife, up turns it, hovers it near the Reverend's mouth “Bite down Rev” he chimes in. Shakily the man opens his teeth, his breathing and drooling at the side of his mouth as he struggles to breathe. The three of us moved him to the church floor, Doc gets her bag of tricks, gives him as much as she dares of the morphine, “What you want us to do Doc” I ask. One tie this around him as tight as possible and restrain him, the other hand me things from my bag. I took it upon myself to do the holding. The cloth, Doc gave me I tied round his remains while I stood behind him, I pulled the cloth as tight as I could, twisted the ends around my left fist and him down with my right fist. Garvin removed his right arm which cradled his fleshy part, the Reverend did a muffle scream as his arm's weight strained his left over muscles and tendons, Doc took the weight for him “Willie hold this please” Garvin holds the arm, “Ready” she asks, both me and Garv nod, she looks at the comatose Reverend and begins with her scalpel to sever any tissue that was left, more screams and restrained movement came from Steele as we struggled to cope with his loss. With everything severed, she had to cause him more pain, as she explained “We need to make a flesh pad for you Reverend.” She was fine under the tension, but me holding his shoulder, which was shaking caused problems “Hold him tighter please Mr Jensen” “Yes Doc” I squeezed tighter. Finished cutting two lines down the remains of his arm, just below the shoulder, she put down her scalpel and was reluctant to do anything, “Hacksaw please” she said with a pause, looking down at the Reverend's blood pool by her knees. Garvin passed it to her, it looked small, but it still shone, which caught the darting eyes of the Reverend “''Insert prayer from nathan”'' he muttered eyes closed as Doc sawed through his arm bone. As she finished, Garvin held the item like a holy relic, “Place it in the cloth Willie” Doc said to him. We all gave words of council to the Reverend and we also found, each of us a whole lot better, like the Reverend healed our souls while he was losing part of his body. After he is cleaned up, Morag comes to console him, she must of heard the screams. Sir Bobby feeling sorry for the man, returns the shield which he has wiped with his handkerchief and sword to the tomb. I kept my ring however. Not all of us should lose today. We all settle for sleep, my aches from the previous night are still making life difficult, especially this stone floor. Garvin, Bobby take it in turns to take look out, Doc suffers to make sure Steele is alright. Tuesday 12th April - Tuesday 3rd May, 1892 Doc has me resting in the inn we stayed at, in Lair. I occasionally see Garvin and this little brown box he is messing about with. The ladies of course do not share a room with me, so I see little of Morag but Doc comes in to change my bandages after I was “pierced when I was thrown from a horse onto a fence” as cover for my wounds. She also eyes Garvin strangely, then one day I hear a commotion as Garvin rushes to the toilets, while two women laugh hysterically one saying “Well I guess there is no fear now” to the other. Sir Bobby helped the Reverend get to his house in Sandford so he can come to blwos with this arm loss, while Sir Bobby goes to a few parties no doubt. The highlight of my days, was the peace I got, after my bandages were changed in the morning. After that I would read the papers, which by the way the Scottish papers were nothing more than a four page leaflet, mostly crowing on about the latest village changes from the council, which wasn't much. I would often ask for the window to be left open so I could hear bird song and feel the crisp air. On Friday I was allowed up and about, so I went out in the inn's garden. I was quite happy sitting in a chair in a dressing gown with slits just being in the garden. On the Friday night I was allowed a pint, only a half, whilst I sat in a chair away from the crowd with Doc and the rest, Garvin by this time, had recovered from the local food. There was a curious little dance going on, with a feller playing soothing music on a fiddle. I didn't feel more relaxed for a long time those last few days. Monday we packed for the train journey to Manchester which was our overnight stop. It was a struggle to move myself for a large distance from Inn to carriage then Carriage to Inn. I was sad that I was going to be missing this lovely calm air, but I was glad to get back to the lodge. For the party was still quite down after the Rev losing his arm. Tuesday we got back and had settled by late afternoon in our lodge. I asked the servants to get me a drink, because I was missing the English ale, the Scottish one was a bit flowery for my liking. I toasted “to the reverend's bravery” and Garvin raised his glass and nodded as he does. Lets hope Scotland in the future will be less stressful. Morag has asked the Inn in Lair to keep tabs on any strange occurrences and instructed them to mail her at the lodge. But as far as I can see, we ain't returning. Next Page Contents